The Art of Riding
by RinkyPink
Summary: AU LuciusxHarry. Harry is not impressed when told he has to take riding lessons- and even less impressed when he finds out that Lucius Malfoy is to be his teacher! Giftfic for x-Scarlett-x
1. Chapter 1

Alrighty, this one needs a bit of explaining; this is a giftfic

**Alrighty, this one needs a bit of explaining: this is a giftfic for my lovely Hannah (aka x-Scarlett-x), who is possibly the most filthy-minded individual I have ever had the misfortune to come across. No offence there Hannah! But to make a long story short, the two of us were at Christian camp (I am personally amazed she wasn't struck down as we went in, haha) and as we all sat eating our lunch, we were suddenly awarded with the sight of five hot, sexy men on horseback. It was a gift from God!! (All the girls nearly choked, by the way, we weren't the only ones.) This naturally was divine inspiration for a fanfic- and Hannah demanded I make it her favourite pairing, LuciusxHarry, and then dedicate it to her. So here I sit before you, offering up this fanfic, which I hope you all enjoy- and I hope you have no corruptive, evil friends yourself! (I don't actually ship this pairing, you know, but hey- it seems to be working so far!)**

**Summary: **AU, LuciusxHarry. Harry is less then impressed when he's informed his horse riding isn't up to scratch- and even less impressed when he's told he needs lessons! But maybe his sexy riding teacher Lucius can change his mind.

**Disclaimers: Please, don't make me laugh. Most definitely not mine!**

**Art of Riding**

**By RinkyPink**

James Potter ran his hand through his hair with a groan for the third time that morning. Harry was going to _kill_ him. Actually kill him dead. This would not be a good thing, James felt. Which was why he was sitting at the kitchen table, mentally constructing explanations and arguments that his son would accept. So far, he wasn't doing too well.

"_Well, Harry, you see… Alright, it's like this… Son, I think that it's time… It's your mother's idea!"_

The last one, James decided, was easily the best one he'd had so far.

His internal musings and mental ratting out's were interrupted by the arrival of his wife, who sighed impatiently when she saw him.

"Oh for goodness sake James, have you still not spoken to him? It's not like you're condemning him to be hanged, you know!"

"Easy for you to say", muttered James, tilting his head back to glare at his wife. She stood in the kitchen doorway, still in her dressing gown and slippers and with her long red hair loose over her shoulders, an exasperated expression on her face. Despite himself, James felt his face soften as he gazed at her. Even after almost twenty-one years together, Lily Potter (nee Evans) still had the power to take his breath away.

Lily smiled inwardly at the besotted expression on her husband's face, but outwardly she presented an air of faint irritation. (It wouldn't do for James to think he could sway her, now, would it?)

"James Potter", she began, sweeping into the room and dropping elegantly down in the kitchen chair beside her moping husband, "I cannot believe you are making such a big deal out of this! Harry is a mature seventeen year old, who will be turning eighteen in a couple of months. He is not going to have a deranged fit over the fact that he has to take riding lessons!"

"But _Lily_", whined her husband, flopping forwards onto the table and sprawling across the wooden surface with a look of despair on his bespectacled face, "It's not really the lessons part that's bothering me! (Although that won't be much fun to try and explain either.) It's more to the issue of the person who's going to be _doing the teaching_ that has me considering the (not so absurd, might I add) notion of suicide right now!"

Lily rolled her eyes, but she had to admit that James did have a point. Neither subject was going to be much fun to bring up, especially considering their background.

The Potters had always been an exceptionally wealthy family, thanks to generation after generation of Potter men working in the stock market. However, all this had changed when James Potter came onto the scene- his parents later declared that he had been born with "a need for speed". By the tender age of eight, young James had already decided that when he grew up, he was going to race motorbikes, and that nothing on this earth was going to stop him. When, at eleven years old, he met Sirius Orion Black, his determination and passion was only fuelled further. Together the two best friends overcame every obstacle in their paths, becoming renowned on the racing tracks by the time they were seventeen.

Although James later retired from the track, he never lost his enthusiasm and ended up founding and managing his own motorcycle firm: _The Seeker._ As a result, the Potters now owned a very reasonable sized fortune. And baby Harry James Potter had been raised to possess the same passion and love for motorbikes as his father.

So, seeing as his son could (literally) ride circles round any professional on the racing track, it was going to be… interesting, having to tell him that he needed to take riding lessons. This was going to go down well. _Not._

"Right, fine! I'll tell him, but I am going to make damn sure that he knows this is all _your _idea!" declared James, sitting upright abruptly and pointing an accusatory finger at his wife. "In no way, shape or form am _I_ to be associated with this!"

Lily simply rolled her eyes again, reaching out for the coffee pot. Honestly, James was such a _drama _queen. Thank God Harry hadn't inherited that particular strand of genes.

The sound of steady footsteps and a cheerful whistling coming down the hall announced the arrival of their son, and the object of their discussions. (Lily watched with amusement as James' face turned several different colours in a matter of seconds.)

The kitchen door was pushed open and a tall, skinny teenager strolled in, smiling at his parents. "Morning Mum, morning Dad! Are you two all right? I could hear Dad shrieking from up the stairs."

"I was not shrieking!" James protested, spinning round in his chair to glare playfully up at his son. "I was expressing my opinions at a very manly decibel, you cheeky little toe rag!"

Lily smiled, watching as her unabashedly grinning son raised an eyebrow at his father. It never failed to strike her how alike the two of them were, from messy black hair (_honestly,_ she had just given up trying to make it lie flat after a while) to wire-rimmed glasses and identical grins. The only differences lay mostly in their builds; Harry was slightly more slender and delicate looking then James had ever been. The other difference was their eyes. Harry had Lily's eyes, almond shaped and a startling deep emerald green. Lily had to hold in her proud motherly outburst again- her son was just so good-looking!

Harry had obviously conceded to his father's point, as he was nodding and looking very grave (an expression that fooled nobody) as he sat down opposite his parents and grabbed the cereal box.

"All right then, Dad, what exactly were you '_expressing your opinions'_ about then?"

"Ah-" James suddenly looked thoroughly uncomfortable, running his hand through his hair again (something he always did when he was nervous) and clearing his throat several times.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at his now thoroughly unsettled father and glanced at his mother for some idea of what was going on. He began to get a very bad feeling when he saw her sipping steadily at her coffee and studiously avoiding eye-contact. Something unpleasant was about to go down, he could just _feel_ it.

"Okay, well, um… Harry, it's like this," James began, leaning forward to look at his son, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

"You'll be eighteen in a couple of months, and I know you want to join the race track and become a professional racer. That's fine with your mother and I, because we know how skilled you are, and we know that you also intend to teach other people how to ride as well, so it's not as though your education's going to waste. However…"

Here James broke off to look beseechingly at his wife, who was gazing innocently at the ceiling, before continuing, "However, because we want to make sure that you're perfectly safe, _your mother_… has decided that you need horse-riding lessons."

And with his unpleasant speech out of the way, James sat back with a relieved expression, folding his arms and looking pointedly at Lily, who was now directing evil looks in his direction.

Harry sat there for a moment in total shock, brain processing the information it had received. Then he found his tongue again.

"Wha… why… _what?_ What are you talking about? How in heaven's name is learning to ride a _horse_ going to help me out on the racing track?!"

It was now Lily's turn to lean forwards, face earnest. "Sweetheart, studies have shown that people who know how to horse ride as well as bike are five times less likely to have a motoring accident!** (1)** It's proven to enhance your ability to concentrate on various things simultaneously, and help you be aware of other people and objects in the direct vicinity. Not to mention improving your balance; not that I'm saying your balance needs improving, dear. You're our only child, and we want you to stay as safe as possible. Riding a horse won't be that bad! After all, your father can do it!"

"Thank you for that darling."

"Shut it Potter. So please Harry, what do you think? And bear in mind, darling, we've had a long time to think this through, and we are therefore sufficiently prepared with arguments that will be used to shoot you down."

Staring at his parent's faces, Harry first thought was that he had forgotten how conniving and manipulative his mother could be. _Well, that'll sure teach me…_ His second thought was that his parents actually had a good point. Growing up practically on a race track had allowed him to see firsthand some of the horrific injuries that could be gained from biking accidents. If learning to ride a horse could save him from that, then he would be a fool not to accept the offer. Not to mention, he sort of had the distinct impression that he didn't really have much choice in the matter anyway…

Letting out a sigh, the coal-haired boy leant back in his chair and nodded firmly. "Okay. Yeah, I'll take the lessons."

Lily beamed and James let out a loud sigh himself, closing his eyes in relief. "Whew! Well, that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"Um, except there's one other _tiny _detail we forgot to mention", said Lily sweetly, giving her son her most innocent expression. Beside her, James' eyes snapped open in horror.

Harry was beginning to think he really couldn't take much more. He fixed both parents with a flat look as he asked expressionlessly, "What. Tiny. Detail."

James put a hand over his eyes as his wife said with manic brightness, "You're going to be taught by Lucius Malfoy!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"WHAT?!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you serious mate?" asked Ron Weasley incredulously. "_The _Lucius Malfoy?"

"Yes," groaned Harry, who was sitting face down on his desk. "Can you believe this? Seriously, what kind of a parent _does_ this to their own child?"

There was a reproving tut from beside Ron, where Hermione Granger was sat, flicking through one of her textbooks. "Come on, Harry, they're just trying to look out for you! I for one am very happy with this decision, if it means you're less likely to get hurt."

Ron gave her an exasperated look. "Hermione, he's going to be taught by _Lucius Malfoy._ If you ask me, he'd be better off getting mangled by his bike!"

Harry heartily agreed with this statement. Hermione, it seemed, did not.

"_Ronald Weasley!_ Don't say such horrible things! The last thing we need is Harry getting hurt- _again._"

Harry eyed his bushy-haired friend with slight suspicion- he hadn't missed the emphasis she had placed on _"again"._ Good grief, he didn't get hurt that much!

But his fingers, of their own accord, drifted over the scar on his forehead gently. Perhaps Hermione had a point…

"Look, Hermione," he began, leaning forward over Ron (who was now sitting sulking in his chair), "I really don't have a problem with learning to ride- I just wish my parents had found someone else to teach me. Out of all the dozens of riding instructors there are out there, they had to pick the most sarcastic, cold and jaded one there is going!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she picked up her pen, clearly intent on making some notes in her copy of _Psychology: An Intricate Look at the Behavioural Patterns of Human Beings and the Influences on Those Around them. _"Harry, he might be cold and jaded and even perhaps a little evil (Ginny's words, not mine), but he's also the _best_. The Malfoy family have been breeding and competing event horses for years. Lucius had more rosettes and trophies by the age of ten, than most people can collect in thirty; it's been very well documented in fact. They've made a fortune out of it. You really can't ask for a more skilled and capable teacher."

Harry slumped back into his seat, the childish part of his mind muttering rebelliously about not asking for a teacher at_ all._ With a defeated sigh he glumly picked up his own textbook and stared at the front cover without even registering which book it was. He knew that most of his problems with Lucius Malfoy stemmed from being rivals with his son Draco, and the fact that his own father and godfather hadn't gotten along with him in school; but another, much smaller part of him quietly admitted that he was, (and not without reason) afraid. Not of Lucius, so much, but of what he represented- a powerful, haughty man who could make people feel worthless with a single scathing look. The idea of making a fool of himself in front of this man made Harry want to shrivel up and die inside, especially because he knew full well that he couldn't defend himself properly. He had inherited the stubborn Potter pride, but also seemed to have inherited the inability to make sharp and witty comebacks on the spot. And that wasn't good when you were dealing with a member of the Malfoy family, all of whom were renowned for their sharp tongues.

A familiar voice broke into his fretful thoughts. "Hey Harry, what do Sirius and Remus have to say on this? I mean, your dad usually listens to them, so…?"

Harry sighed and shook his head in response to Ron's query. "Nah, I already tried that one, it didn't work. They're not overly thrilled with the idea, what with Sirius being related to him and hating his guts, but they want me to be taught by someone who knows what he's doing, so they agreed." _And they were my last line of defence too, damnit!_

The emerald-eyed teen stretched his arms over his head before shaking out his body, face determined. "Look, I don't want to do this, but if it means that I can race, then I'm willing to bear through it. No way am I going to let a member of the _Malfoy_ family stand in my way!"

Ron raised his hand enthusiastically. "Amen to that!"

Hermione shook her head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "_Boys…"_

But despite these bold words, a nasty little voice in the back of Harry's head and a knot in his stomach told him that maybe his fast approaching first riding lesson wasn't going to be easy as he hoped.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**(1) Um yeah, that's a total lie… I have no idea if that's true or not! I'll do some research for the next chapter though, promise!**

**There, first chapter done! I know, shock horror, Lucius isn't even in this one- but fear not, for he shall be in abundance in the next chapter! Hopefully we'll also see a bit of Draco too, so have no worries! Please leave a review on your way out… Lucius wants one. :)**

**Until next chapter!**

**RinkyPink over and out.**

**Oh, and a quick note from my ****new beta: she doesn't agree with this pairing, but for mine (and x-Scarlett-x's) sake she is willing to make an exception! Cheers crouchingdragoness!**


	2. Chapter 2

Art of Riding- Chapter 2

**Okay, so here we go with chapter 2! It will make x-Scarlett-x happy to know that there is plenty of Lucius in this chapter- and a bit of Draco too! (However, this is possibly the longest thing I have ever written…)**

**Disclaimers: If Harry Potter was owned by me, I doubt it would have sold even a third as many copies as it actually has…**

**Art of Riding- Chapter 2**

Lucius massaged his temples with the tips of his fingers, counting slowly to one hundred under his breath in a futile attempt to keep his temper.

_One, two, three, four…_

So far, it didn't appear to be working- the pathetic grovelling cretin of a stable hand was still stuttering madly in front of him.

"Y-you see, Lord Malfoy, s-sir, i-it's just that, well…"

_Five, six, seven, eight…_

"…and so, well, I-I'm, well what I'm trying to say is…"

_Nine, ten… Right, that's it!_

"Finish that sentence in the next three seconds or start running," snarled Lucius, finally giving up all pretext at being civil. After all, it didn't suit him anyway- nobility weren't bred to be polite.

The skinny man gulped visibly, the whites around his eyes showing before he finally blurted out desperately, "Lord Malfoy, I won't be able to work for the next few weeks because my wife is ill at home and I have to take care of her and I apologise most sincerely but there's nothing else I can do and I apologise!"

Lucius blinked. Despite himself, he was actually quite impressed. The man hadn't paused for breath once during his entire garbled speech, which had been delivered at top speed. However, the fact remained that his Head Groom was upping and leaving with barely two days notice.

Needless to say, Lucius did not take this knowledge well.

The head of the Malfoy family took a slow, deep breath before opening his eyes and fixing his hapless employee with an icy glare.

"Might I enquire as to why you are only informing me of this now? When I have a student coming tomorrow and therefore have no available time in which to seek out a replacement?" _Never mind the fact that my student is an underbred commoner who doesn't know one end of a horse from another…_

His stable hand stammered for another few moments before Lucius reluctantly took pity on him, something he didn't ever do lightly. "Very well. I accept your brief absence; if you wish to receive financial support then I suggest you go and visit Mr. Pettigrew down in the accounts."

The man gasped in relief, his body sagging slightly as the terror and tension drained from him. "Oh, thank you my Lord, thank you!"

Lucius nodded curtly before turning and sweeping away, his black riding cloak swirling out behind him. _Damn, I must be going soft!_

As the blonde-haired man strode through the stables his mind drifted straight back to its favourite topic of the last few days; his new _student_ and the phone call that had caused all this. This last week had seen Lucius tearing out his hair (metaphorically, of course- waist length blonde hair was not something to be treated lightly) and mentally running over the conversation with James Potter in his head, trying to pinpoint exactly when he had lost his mind and agreed to take on the son of his much loathed nemesis. By now he had come to the conclusion that the battle had been half lost the moment he had accepted the damn call in the first place.

"_Lord Malfoy, there's a Mr James Potter on line one. Should I patch him through?"_

_Lucius looked up from his pile of paperwork to stare at the intercom his secretary's voice had just crackled through. James Potter? What in God's name was _he_ calling for? The two of them had never been on civil speaking terms throughout their school careers, and this had simply continued when they had both left Hogwarts and gone on with their separate lives. They did occasionally see each other, at parent's evenings and from time to time in the Headmaster's Office as well. (Draco and the Potter brat didn't get along particularly well either; Lucius was tired of being dragged into school to hear about the latest scandal the two had caused. Though admittedly, he personally thought that throwing the Potter boy's clothes out of the second storey window was inspired. It would teach the staff of Hogwarts not to put the two rival football teams in the same changing rooms again, at any rate.)_

"_Lord Malfoy?"_

_Lucius shook his head briskly (a show of absent-mindedness he would never allow in public) and pushed down on the speaker button._

"_Yes, Belinda, put him through."_

_He ignored the disgruntled "My name is _Bertha_, Bertha Jorkins" that filtered through the intercom speakers as he picked up the phone and held it to his ear. Despite himself, he was intrigued as to why the motorcycle riding prat wanted to speak to him. As far as he knew, there hadn't been any more disputes between Draco and the Potter brat since the Squirrel Incident of last month, so the call couldn't be about them._

"_Hello? Malfoy, you there?"_

"_Yes, Potter, I'm here. You had better have a good reason for disturbing my work." Lucius' voice betrayed none of his curiosity or emotions; it was as smooth and cold as ice._

"_Yeah, whatever Malfoy. Look, I, er… I'm… look, let me just make this perfectly clear. I'm phoning because _Lily_ wants me to, alright? If I had my way, I wouldn't be talking to you at all, you smug blonde pillock."_

"_Goodbye Potter."_

"_Wait, wait, no! I didn't mean that, sorry, I take it back. God, I so don't wanna do this…"_

_The last part of his sentence trailed off into a soft whine, and Lucius raised an eyebrow at the receiver, before casually crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in his chair. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy this conversation._

_On the other end of the line, he heard James let out a gust of breath before resuming his speech, his tone a little more determined._

"_Right, Malfoy, let me just lay it out for you, okay? My son Harry is aspiring to become a professional motorcycle rider" and even through the phone Lucius could hear the pride in the man's voice, "and Lily has decided -OW, ow, okay!- _WE _have decided that before he can do this, he has to take horse riding lessons. You know, to improve balance and all that malarkey. Point is, for that he's going to need a teacher, and so Lily- no dear, I'm sorry, it _is_ your idea, I've got nothing to do with this one- thought of you. Basically, we're asking you if you'd agree to become Harry's teacher. -Lily, I swear if you pinch me _one_ more time..!-"_

_Lucius stared at the phone he was holding in his hand, which was now emitting the faint strains of angry bickering. His first, slightly irrational reaction was "Thank God _I_ don't have that problem any more…" (He and Narcissa had been divorced for almost three years now, though they were still on fairly amiable terms.) His second, much more pressing reaction was "WHAT THE HELL?!"_

_Not in his wildest dreams would he have seen this coming. Certainly, he had a whole stable-full of horses out back, but they were for competing and profit _only_. The only person he had ever taught to ride was his own son Draco, and even then he had bought a horse specially. He himself owned several horses for personal riding, and none of them were particularly suitable for complete beginners. So why on earth…?_

_Lucius suddenly became aware that Potter was speaking again and he hastily started to listen again._

"…_and so the reason she'd like you to teach him is because she claims that you're the most talented and able rider she could think of, and she knows you can teach because she's seen your bra- er, son, ride. So, what do you say?"_

_Mind still temporarily out of use from shock, Lucius said the first thing that came to his lips: "Where's your wife suddenly gone?" (He hadn't heard a single protest from her, despite the manner in which James was speaking and referring to her.)_

"_I locked her in the cupboard," came the smug reply from the other end of the line. "Now, are you up for it or not?"_

_Lucius frowned. "Exactly why would I agree to teach _your_ hell-spawn, Potter? I'm sure you realise I have much better things that I can do with my time, so why would I give it up for ungrateful commoners like you and your family?"_

"_We'd pay you, of course. Geez, Malfoy, I'm not that stupid! I know you're a cruel heartless bastard- I'm not stupid enough to think you'd do it out of the goodness of your heart. If you even have one, that is."_

_Lucius bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from making an acidic comment on James' intelligence, and instead spoke frostily down the phone._

"_Potter, are you aware that I am a multi-millionaire, and therefore I do not have any need for your money?" __**There,**__ he thought smugly, __**that'd do it**__._

"_Yeah, I thought about that one too, so I have a back-up offer!" rang out the too-cheerful reply down the phone. __**Crap. Maybe not.**_

"_If you teach my son how to ride," James continued brightly, " thus potentially saving his life and also getting my demented hell-beast of a wife off my back, then I promise to make _sure_ that not only will Sirius no longer graffiti your front door every week, but also that you will no longer receive hate-mail. AND, I'll make him give you back all of your garden gnomes. How's that?"_

_Lucius sat, phone pressed to his ear and mouth slightly open as he stared ahead unseeingly at the walls of his office. That was…tempting. Very tempting. To be honest, that was actually one of the few things that could have actually swayed him. He was sick and tired of having "__**Lucius Malfoy has a pimp cane!**__" scrubbed off his front door, and the hate-mail cluttered up his letterbox. Not to mention the fact that those garden gnomes were _expensive_, damnit!_

_The blonde man sighed heavily, finger tips pressing against his temples again. Damnit, he was going to have to say yes, wasn't he… __**This is going to be a pain in the arse,**__ he thought sourly. Unfortunately, it couldn't be helped._

"_Very well, Potter, I will give your son riding lessons. However-" and here Lucius had to raise his voice to be heard over the whoops of delight echoing down the line, "believe me when I say it will be done to _my_ schedule, and I expect him to be the very _model_ of obedience. Otherwise, the whole deal is off. Do we have an agreement?"_

"_Damn right we do!" came the jubilant reply. "Right, I'll call later and make arrangements for payment and the date of the first lesson and whatnot; but right now I'd better phone Siri and let Lily out of the downstairs cupboard. Cheers Malfoy! Speak to you later!"_

_The phone beeped once before the hum of the dialling tone sounded in Lucius' ear. Carefully, he replaced the receiver back in it's cradle, and then sat and stared at it for a while- before dropping his head into his hands with a long moan._

_What in God's name had just happened…?_

Yep. Half-lost, if not entirely lost. But really, who could have turned down the prizes the Potter Prat was offering? After all, his door had been clean for a whole week now, and he had woken up the other morning to the scream of a maid finding a tribe of garden gnomes on the front door step. So, as unappealing and loathsome as his future task would be, Lucius had to admit that it did have its benefits.

However, Draco didn't seem to agree.

"Father!"

Lucius nearly jumped out of his skin at the shout, and tried to disguise the undignified movement as a jaunty spin round. It made him look like a flamboyantly gay ballerina, but he decided to ignore that for now, in favour of his only child striding across the open stable yard towards him with a determined expression on his face.

"Father," Draco began as soon as he reached the older man's side, "I just spoke to the stable hand- who _is_ a snivelling idiot, by the way- and he informed me that you are still planning on teaching _Potter_ how to ride. Is this true?"

Lucius resisted the urge to wail out loud at how cruel his life was, and instead fixed his offspring with a steady gaze, gently tapping his silver-topped cane against the ground.

"Yes, Draco, that is correct. If you will recall, when I spoke to you about this last week, I made my intentions very clear. The Potter boy is to be educated here, starting tomorrow, and his lessons should occur about twice a week. You already knew of this, so why do you sound as though this has come as a surprise?"

Draco flushed slightly, having the grace to look slightly embarrassed before schooling his face to a neutral expression. Inwardly, his father smiled proudly- Draco was a credit to the Malfoy family name. He was as shrewd, intelligent and as cunning as all his ancestors before him, as well as being an exceptional young rider. Lucius took pride in the fact that his son would be more than capable of taking over from him when the time came. It also didn't hurt that his son had inherited the classic Malfoy looks as well; white-blonde hair, pale complexion and sharp grey eyes. The young Malfoy heir turned heads wherever he went (a fact he knew and took full advantage of.) Yes, his father mused, he was _very_ proud of Draco.

The teenager, who was unaware of his father's silent musings, was protesting again. "But Father, I can't believe you're serious! Does he really need to come _here_ to be taught? I'm sure there's a perfectly good swamp nearby that you can dump him in…" He trailed off as he wistfully pictured this in his mind. Ah, swamp-covered Potter…

Lucius shook his head, knowing full and well what was going through his son's head (and secretly approving.) However, he stared sternly at his son as he said coldly, "Draco, please do not speak in that manner when the Potter boy is actually here. I will not have my name sullied because of some childish vendetta you harbour, do you understand?"

By this point Draco's usually pale face was crimson from his father's rebuke, and his voice shook slightly with anger as he replied quietly, "I understand, Father."

Lucius nodded, keeping his face impassive. "Very good. Keep yourself above such petty grievances and you will do both me and you proud."

Ignoring the way his son's head snapped up, his face a mask of surprise, he turned on his heel and continued briskly on his way towards his mansion. As he walked, he breathed in deeply, and allowed the scent of hay and earth to soothe him. He always found the stables one of the most calming place on earth for him to be, oddly enough. The soft whinnying of the horses and their distinctive smell washed over him, and he slowed his step without consciously realising it, gazing around him.

The stables were enormous, set out around an open yard, beyond which were several tens of acres of private land owned by the Malfoy family, and were used to take the horses out. The horses paddock was built on this land, and easily held the thirty horses currently in Lucius' possession (not including the three he used for private riding.) The stables were a ten-minute walk from the huge country mansion he and Draco lived in, along with a selection of servants, and it was in this mansion that Lucius had his study and kept his work. Ha, like he'd really go away to work!

This was Lucius' home, the home he had grown up in- and tomorrow, the home that Harry Potter would be entering for his very first riding lesson.

This could not go well.

Harry stared out the car window, shifting uncomfortably on the seat and trying to swallow the lump that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his throat. Words couldn't express how much he didn't want to be here- but by God, he was going to try!

"Dad-", he began, but Lily cut him off before he could get any further.

"No, darling, it's too late. We're going to be there any minute now, so it's no use complaining. In any case, we've bought you riding clothes, and you look splendid!"

Harry glared at his mother through the rear-view mirror. "Mum, I look like an absolute tosspot. A tosspot with a hard hat. Why do you hate me?"

Lily tutted (a habit she'd picked up off of Hermione) and elbowed her shaking husband in the ribs, causing the whole car to swerve dangerously. "Harry, if it helps, then think of it as a uniform. You wear racing leathers, don't you? What's so different about them and this, er, uniform?"

James stopped laughing silently and sat up straight, an affronted expression on his face as he gripped the steering wheel. "Okay, for one thing, racing leathers are _cool_, got it? And for another, they don't make you look like you've just skipped out of a Victorian novel!"

"No," snapped Lily waspishly, "They just make you look like a greasy thug! Or maybe it's just the way _you_ wear them…"

Harry sighed as his father spluttered incoherently. Lily had been tetchy since this morning, when they had received an impromptu visit from Sirius and Remus. As much as she loved the two of them, being woken at seven in the morning on a Saturday by "HARRY! GET DOWN HERE, I WANT TO SEE YOU ON YOUR LAST DAY OF LIFE!" was not the way to get on her good side.

Harry had to stifle a grin at the memory of his mother storming down the stairs in a nightgown and armed with a hairbrush, hell-bent on beating the living day-lights out of his godfather and his partner. It had taken some fast talking from both Harry and Remus (Sirius had cowered behind his lover whilst James howled with laughter in the background) to convince Lily to leave the motorcyclist in one piece.

The image lightened Harry's feelings for a moment, before the sinking, dreading feeling slowly made its return back into the pit of his stomach. God, he s_o_ didn't want to be here right now. He shifted again, the stiff material of his new jodhpurs rubbing uncomfortably against his thighs as he changed his position. They were part of his new riding outfit; black jodhpurs, a dark green shirt ("It matches your eyes, Harry!"), black knee-length leather riding boots (why his leather racing boots wouldn't do, he couldn't understand) and a dark jacket. And, of course, the hard-hat.

_Great,_ Harry thought darkly. _Not only do I get to make a fool out of myself in front of Malfoy and his dad, but I also get to do it dressed like a complete pansy. Terrific._

The jet-haired teen slumped back against the car seat, staring miserably out of the window again at the blurred green scenery racing by. Hermione and Ron had both phoned that morning to anxiously wish him luck, Ron assuring him that if Malfoy gave him any hassle then the two of them could sort him out at school on Monday. This had made him feel slightly better, as had Sirius' hard hug, and muttering what he would do to the older Malfoy "if he so much as looks at my godson the wrong way." Remus had smiled gently and murmured soothingly in his ear, "Harry, no matter how badly the lesson goes, remember that it's not forever- and you'll appreciate it when you're a world famous racer." In short, all of Harry's friends and family had shown their support for him as much as possible, in order to try and help him through this… _experience_. And dear Lord, he needed all the support he could get.

"Harry, we're almost here now, okay?" Lily's voice, slightly tinged with concern, filtered through Harry's churning thoughts. He glanced up to see his mother peering round the car seat at him, a worried expression on her face. His father, uncharacteristically quiet, was sneaking glances at him through the rear-view mirror, a frown furrowing his brow. Harry quickly forced a small smile to his face, and attempted to look more normal.

"N-no, it's fine, I was just thinking about the lesson, that's all… and you know I don't really like cars anyway."

This wasn't entirely a lie; even as the words left his mouth he felt the familiar tightening of his stomach, and his skin was unusually clammy. Lily's face softened as she stretched her arm through the gap in the front seats to smooth back Harry's hair comfortingly.

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's alright, we're about to pull up anyway."

With a final loving touch to his face (and a motherly straightening of his crooked glasses), Lily retracted her arm and settled back in her seat. James pulled a face at Harry in the mirror, startling a grin out of his sombre son, as the car smoothly rounded a corner and purred up the long, sweeping driveway that led to the enormous Malfoy mansion. And standing at the top of the driveway, near the front door…

Harry's stomach lurched unpleasantly as he caught sight of white-blonde hair. _Crap…_

James pulled up with a slight jerk, settling beside a shiny black convertible that Harry knew belonged to Draco. (A small voice squealed inside Harry, "_Key it! Key it!"_)

His father then turned in his seat to smile at his only son. "Ready, Snitch?"

Harry smiled slightly at the affectionate nickname, before swallowing hard and nodding sharply. "Ready, Dad."

Reaching across the seat to grab his much-hated hard hat, Harry turned to the car door and set his jaw. _Let's go Harry- time to see what you're made of._

He reached out and pushed open the car door.

**Mwahahaha! Yes, that is where I choose to end it, sorry! But I can promise you all that there will be a lot of Harry and Lucius interaction next chapter, and the first riding lesson!**

**Thank you to all those who added me on story alert and such as the like- but this time, please leave a review! I live for them… Haha! But yeah, if you managed to make it this far, then please leave a review- con. crit. welcomed, flames forwarded to my friends for a laugh.**

**See you all next time!**

**RinkyPink over and out.**


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